


small measures

by ncfan



Category: Umineko no Naku Koro ni | When the Seagulls Cry
Genre: Gen, POV Female Character, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8577301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncfan/pseuds/ncfan
Summary: Flexibility is a must.





	

“Okay, sweetheart, I think that’s enough candy for today. Any more, and we’ll be peeling you off of the walls once we get home.”

“But Mommmm, I’ve hardly eaten any! Can’t I have one more?”

“No, Battler. Don’t you remember what happened to Seishirou? He ate so much candy that his teeth turned into sugar cubes and melted away. You don’t want that to happen to you, do you?”

Battler clapped his mouth shut, his eyes going wide as he remembered the fable Asumu had told him about another little boy who ate too much candy for his own good. “Mm-mmm.”

Asumu laughed gently. Seishirou always worked. “That’s good. I want you to have big, strong teeth when you grow up, and you certainly can’t have strong teeth if they turn into sugar cubes first. Now, hold my hand and make sure your bag doesn’t spill; we’re about to cross the street.”

There was a candy shop next to an arts and crafts store Asumu liked to frequent. On occasions when she had Battler with her when she went to the arts and crafts store, if he had been very good lately, they would go to the candy shop afterwards. Battler would fill up a twelve ounce bag with candy from the many gleaming rows of dispensers, and Asumu might buy a box or two of pocky or some packaged manju from the front counter. The first trick was to keep Battler from eating too much on the way home. The second was to keep Rudolf from eating too much of it when they got home. The candy jar was too high up for Battler to reach, but Rudolf could get to it without any trouble, and sometimes he liked to take some out and eat them in front of Battler, to tease him. Especially the bisuko; Rudolf knew Battler loved those, and Battler would squirm every time he heard his father tearing open the cellophane packaging.

_I am raising two boys,_ Asumu thought with a rueful smile, _and for the life of me I can’t figure out which one of them is supposed to be younger_. She raised a hand to her blonde curls, damp with sweat, and her smile faded. The heat was incredible, radiating off of the bus stop benches and the pavement beneath their feet. If they didn’t get home soon, Rudolf would have a much smaller amount to choose from if he wanted to tease Battler. Any chocolate in Battler’s bag would be practically liquefied from the heat.

_A bus would get us home in five minutes instead of twenty._ They were only a few yards from a bus stop now, and Asumu had seen the bus that stopped there stop close to their house often enough. She had enough cash on hand to pay for bus fare; that wouldn’t be a problem. But…

Her stomach churned unpleasantly just thinking about getting on one of those things. The last time Asumu had ridden a bus, it had… Well, Rudolf had said the suspension must have been bad; even he’d been looking a little green by the end, and that man loved roller coasters and bumper cars and all manner of fair rides Asumu couldn’t stand. Asumu herself had been huddled on the floor of the bus, her eyes screwed shut, bile slowly rising in her throat.

Barring an emergency of apocalyptic proportions, Asumu would not be availing herself of public transportation today. _And Battler doesn’t like riding on buses any more than I do_ , Asumu thought ruefully. Battler wouldn’t ride a bus to school. Either he walked or, on the occasions Rudolf had a day off from work, he was driven there. Battler was like her, Asumu supposed. He liked to keep his feet planted firmly on the ground.

When they got up to the front gate of their house, Asumu blinked, surprised, to see Rudolf’s car parked in the driveway. Granted, his hours were pretty irregular on the weekends, but really, he’d given her the impression that he wouldn’t be back until suppertime today. Nevertheless, she smiled down at Battler and pointed his father’s car out to him. “Oh, look, sweetheart; Dad’s home.”

Battler puffed out his cheeks. “He’s not gonna eat all my candy again, is he, Mom?”

“No, Battler. If he tries, I’ll remind him that grown-ups can end up like Seishirou, too.” _And that he’s supposed to be one of the adults in this family_.

Asumu balanced her bags on her hip as she dug out her key to unlock the front door, while Battler went ahead and took off his shoes. Rudolf always insisted that all the doors be locked, even when all three of them were home. He’d never offered any explanation for it, and Asumu couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. This was a nice, safe neighborhood they lived in, and Rudolf had grown up in the only house on an entire _island_ ; it wasn’t as though he had ever lived through a home invasion. Oh, well. At least she never had to worry about him leaving the door unlocked if he had to go somewhere during the night and she and Battler were still asleep.

When she got the door open, Battler raced past her, leaving his shoes—and his bag—in the genkan. Asumu paused to take off her shoes, balancing Battler’s bag with her own with a little difficulty. As she straightened, she heard Battler exclaim excitedly, “Kyrie-san!”

Asumu froze.

It took Asumu a moment to arrange her face in a smile. Take a deep breath through your nose, a few deep breaths through the mouth to steady your heart. Once she had managed that, she walked into the living room to find her son clinging to the armchair at the head of the coffee table at the left hand side of the squishy leather sofa. There was Kyrie, smiling down at him, her glasses glinting in the light (no contacts today, it seemed), whispering something in response to Battler’s questions about work and winking. Rudolf was sitting—well, slouching—in the other armchair, holding a piece of paper in one hand, close to his face. He didn’t meet Asumu’s gaze; she wasn’t entirely sure he’d realized she was there.

Asumu spotted her husband’s furrowed brow and bit back a sigh. If they were alone, she would have taken that paper out of his hand, cleared away the folders and loose papers currently strewn about the coffee table, and made him forget, as best she could. Her father had always said that it wasn’t healthy to bring your work home with you. But that wasn’t the only thing Rudolf kept bringing home with him, was it?

Asumu forced herself to turn her attention to Kyrie, forced herself not to turn her gaze from Kyrie’s face to Battler’s, so close… “Would you like some tea, Kyrie-san?” she heard herself ask. She didn’t see any sign that either Kyrie or Rudolf had anything to eat or drink. It was what a good hostess would do. What a good wife would do.

“Just water, thanks,” Kyrie said smoothly. Her gaze took on a blank sheen as they locked eyes. Like Asumu, Kyrie pointedly avoided look at Battler. Her absent smile clung to Asumu’s skin, making her all too aware of the frizz in her hair, the damp spots on her blouse. “I don’t think tea is as refreshing as water when it’s this hot.”

“I agree.” Behind the thick lenses of her glasses, Asumu could see that a red rim had formed around Kyrie’s eyes. “Are your eyes bothering you?”

“Not at all.” Kyrie’s tone was so mild that if Asumu hadn’t been paying attention, she might have missed the way the muscles in Kyrie’s hands strained as those hands clutched tighter and tighter still at her knees.

“Dear?” Rudolf didn’t look up. “Dear, would you like some water?”

Rudolf’s eyes were decidedly abstracted when he finally looked up. “What? Oh, yeah, yeah, sure, Asumu.”

_I need to be a good hostess,_ came the old refrain, as Asumu made her way over to the kitchen. _I need to be a good hostess. I need… I need some warning, next time!_

Water pitcher’s in the fridge, and ice cubes are in the freezer. That’s simple enough. Asumu clutched at her skirt with one hand as she wondered what to serve with the water? Cheese? No, the cheese they had right now just dried your mouth out; that wouldn’t do. There was melon, but the juice would get everywhere, and Battler might accidentally get some on his father’s work. So what…

“Mom?” Suddenly, Battler was at her side, tugging at her skirt and staring up at her with eager eyes. “Can I share some of my candy with Kyrie-san?”

Asumu’s mouth worked noiselessly for a moment before she found her voice. “… _Sure_ , Battler. Your bag’s in the fridge.”

He grinned, oblivious. “Thanks!”

Asumu didn’t look out into the living room. She listened, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. “Ahh, these are all melted. Sorry, Kyrie-san.”

There came a soft laugh. “Did the two of you walk the whole way home?” Asumu couldn’t hear Battler’s reply, but she could hear, clear as the crack of a whip, what Kyrie said next, in that wry, knowing tone Asumu knew so well. “Your mom still doesn’t like buses, does she?”

Just water would be fine. Neither Kyrie nor Rudolf seemed all that hungry, anyways; Asumu knew Kyrie to go days without food sometimes, back before she and Rudolf got married. Surely one of them would have said something if they were hungry.

Asumu made four glasses of water, and cleared a spot on the coffee table to set down the tray. Kyrie blinked, unable to hide her surprise, when Asumu took a seat on the sofa, but Asumu only smiled back. What was so surprising about that, she wondered. This was her home.


End file.
